Kinks
by Team Jem Carstairs
Summary: The Doctor has an interesting kink or three. Jack guesses correctly. One-shot, slash, PWP.


**Weird little thing that came into my mind after reading the Sherlock story "The Five Times Sherlock Comes in his Pants"by . This is a one-shot and a PWP. Don't like, don't read, but please review!**

**Disclaimer: Ten and Jack belong to Russel T Davies, maybe. Not me. Also credit to the sexy, sexy David Tennant and even sexier John Barrowman.**

I was walking along one of the TARDIS's corridors, minding my business, when out of absolutely _nowhere_ Jack Harkness barrels into me. Since it was, of course, completely unexpected, I dropped like a stone, Jack sprawled awkwardly on top of me. "Blimey, Jack! Where are you in such a hurry to go?"

I looked up and saw his face, flushed scarlet from possible embarrassment but probably arousal, given that his legs were spread across my hips and I could feel exactly what he was trying to hide. "Nowhere," he said too quickly. Chances were, knowing Jack, he was going to take care of his… problem. "I'm sorry, Doc. I really didn't see you."

"Yeah, sure. You're _enjoying_ this."

"What, having you at my mercy? Absolutely." He moved to try and climb off me, but his knee slipped between my legs and I gasped. He grinned. "Well, well, well. Is that a sonic screwdriver in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"It's nothing to do with you," I lied in a sharp reprimand. "Anyway, you're a fine one to talk." I could feel him, hard and hot, from where he was pressed to my thigh. I tried not to think about it anymore.

"It either started with me or it'll end with me," he murmured. I wanted to roll my eyes at his bravado; sex was simply _exuding_ from his pores as he grinded against me. Still, I couldn't hide my arousal.

"It will do neither, thank you," I said as I tried to wriggle out from under him. He was strong, though, stronger than I was, and he wouldn't budge. I groaned in frustration; I had never had a thing for Jack, handsome as he was, but the friction and the already pressing need for release made me want to writhe and pull my hair. Exactly what he wanted me to do. I began to wonder…

I looked up and saw his pupils were blown. "Worried?"

"What would I have to be worried about?"

"Worried that I might get you off, right here. In your pants."

I sighed. "Jack, please. I could force you off me if I wanted, and there's nothing you could do to stop me. It's not as though I take orders."

"Oh, but you do. If you have a kink, it's being dominated." I opened my mouth to tell him he was being a git, but he cut me off. "No, hear me out. You're so used to being in control, knowing what to do and being the only one who can do it, that you're secretly thrilled when someone takes control. I bet you like having your hair pulled"– he wound his hand in the silky strands of my hair and tugged. I moaned– "being tied up"– he took my hands and held them over my head, pressing them to the floor with one of his own– "and, should I take the time to prove it…" He leaned in to whisper in my ear. His hot breath made me shudder. "You like to beg for it."

I shivered. "No. I don't beg."

"You would, if I made you. Tell you what; I'll bet you, just by doing what we were a second ago, that I can make you beg for it before you come. If you come before you beg, then you win. You can do whatever you like with me. But if _I _win, you can bet I'll do whatever I want to _you_."

"Suppose I want you to leave me be, after I win? Suppose I don't want to do anything?"

"We both know that's not quite true. But if it is, well, that's life. Deal?"

I hesitated before nodding curtly. In a clearer mind frame I might have been embarrassed, but sexual desire has a way of evaporating inhibitions and it wasn't as though I was new to this kind of thing… When you're nine hundred years old, you've been around a fair bit. Not that I was a whore, in any sense of the word– sexual reproduction on Gallifrey was considered old-fashioned and degrading. It was never discussed. But that didn't mean… After all, my body was very nearly human…

"Perfect," Jack purred, his usually clear blue eyes dark and lustful. He matched his hips up with mine and ground into me– I let out a loud yelp and a moan. My cock was straining against the tight trousers I wore– why did I ever think those were a good idea? But, oh, every movement caused the most delicious friction. That was a damned good reason right there.

Suddenly Jack moved away. I didn't know why until I felt his hands caressing me. I tangled my hands in his hair, but he immediately tore them away and slammed them back over my head. "You can look but do _not_ touch," he growled. My pulse, already high, skyrocketed. Truth be told, he was absolutely right on every account– I _did_ have a thing for being dominated, I loved having my hair pulled (its length now was an advantage), I had a pair of handcuffs (rarely used, admittedly) in my dresser, and I got off on my own voice, begging.

He was stroking me, and oh, but that felt divine. His hands were so callused they caught on the fabric of my trousers, which only succeeded in pulling them against me in an even more enjoyable manner. And then I felt the heat of his _mouth _on me, tugging my zip down with his teeth. When he had popped the button as well he lowered my trousers about an inch. It occurred to me that this was bending the rules of having our clothes on, but then I felt his tongue and all rational thought ceased.

That skillful tongue drove me nearly to the edge, tracing the outline of my cock through my shorts. "Ohhh," I moaned extremely loudly; Jack hadn't guessed, but I got the feeling he knew I was very loud when aroused. I was so talkative normally…

I was bucking my hips against that mouth when he abruptly left me. My hips kicked up in displeasure as I groaned, trying to regain some of the lost friction. Well, I did, if it was a bit different. Jack's pelvis ground against mine and I could feel his cock, just as hard as mine, straining against the denim of his jeans. It felt glorious and I matched him thrust for thrust. Why hadn't we done this earlier?

"Oh, Jack, _Jack_," I moaned. His hand wound in my hair and forced my head back.

"Say it again," he growled. "Say my name."

"N-no," I said defiantly, wanting him to take power.

And he did. "You _will_ say my name, and you will not argue. You will not defy me. You will do exactly as I say, and if you do not, I will tease you until you ache. I will make you suffer, and then I will make you come so hard you regenerate. Do you understand?"

I nodded, eyes wide with desire and subservience. "Yes, Jack. I understand."

"Now what do you want me to do?"

I tried not to say anything, but his hand was pulling so hard on my hair that my eyes watered, and his hips were brutally pounding me into the floor, and his other hand slipped between our bodies to rub at me again… I was practically weeping from arousal because every time I thought I was going to come, he wrapped his fingers around the base of my cock and stopped me.

"Please!" I finally shouted out.

He only moved harder and faster. "Please what?"

"Please, Jack! Touch me, anything, just make me come, it hurts!" He obliged, removing his hands and thrusting hard, jarring me in all the right locations to make me fall over the edge. I came hard, harder than I had in a very long time– several regenerations, at least– and spilt into my shorts, having still been wearing them. When my hips stopped wildly bucking up, I had to take deep breaths to calm down. I noticed Jack was doing the same thing, slightly cross-eyed, and it seemed he got off on my reaction.

"I… win…" he wheezed, all traces of the dominant Jack gone in the aftermath of bliss. "You begged me to let you come…"

"All right," I smirked. "That means I'm all yours."


End file.
